


'cause my kiss goes down you like some sweet alcohol

by quakeriders



Series: to the stars who listen // a collection of feysand au's [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-12 00:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: She stopped a few steps away from their table and placed one hand on her hips. "So, are you going to stare at me all night or will you get off your ass and dance with me?" She asked the stranger and his smirk grew.or Feyre and her friends go to a bar and this stranger keeps staring at her..





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title: dua lipa - hotter than hell  
> come say hi on tumblr: @quakeriders
> 
> -
> 
> this is literally the text book definition of pwp.  
> also, reading through your fic to fix mistakes is for functional adults not hot messes who write pointless smut

Feyre’s sure that the handsome stranger hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she entered the bar with her three friends. Ressina and Polina were too wrapped up in each other tonight to notice anyone, but Aranea had elbowed Feyre and subtly nodded towards him. Feyre hadn’t felt the need to tell her friend that she had seen the stranger already and his focus made her skin tighten in anticipation. But she had grinned at her friend.

He was sitting in a corner booth with two other guys. All three of them tall, muscular, handsome. But while his hair was so black it almost looked blue, his companions had dark brown hair. They were all stunning in their own right, but there was something about him - the way he sat, the way he played with his drink and leaned back in the booth. Feyre couldn’t stop herself from sneaking glances his way every now and then to drink in the way he moved. Casual, yet elegant. Almost feline.

It had been a while since she had wanted the attention of a man. And had been glad to receive it. And now that Aranea had dragged her to the bar and they had a couple of shots, Feyre felt bold. As if her friend could read her thoughts, she snickered. Feyre ignored her, straightening her shoulders. She ran her tongue over her teeth making sure she didn’t have a piece of lime stuck in them. Then she brushed her hair over one shoulder and righted her dress. It was short and night blue. The was a little unsteady on her heels but she felt more confident in them.

Taking a deep breath and an empowering shove from Aranea, Feyre made her way over to their table. He watched her, a smirk dancing on his lips. And she walked through the dance floor, with the occasionally body blocking her view of him, she tried to ignore the way her heart was beating rapidly against her ribcage.

She stopped a few steps away from their table and placed one hand on her hips. "So, are you going to stare at me all night or will you get off your ass and dance with me?" She asked the stranger and his smirk grew. One of his friend let out a wolfish laugh and clapped him on his back. He just knocked back the rest of his drink and rose to his feet. "It would be my absolute pleasure to rock your world, darling." He said, his voice so smooth that heat pooled in her gut.

She didn’t back down from his intense gaze though. "You think highly mighty of yourself, then." She replied and licked her lips.  
When he offered his hand, she took it without hesitation. He lifted her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Feyre." She breathed. Almost - almost embarrassed at how hoarse her voice sounded.

"Again, a pleasure, Feyre darling. I’m Rhys." And with that, he pulled her into the mass of dancing bodies and Feyre let him lead her.

When they were surrounded by other bodies everywhere, Feyre gave him a smirk, she knew usually drove men wild and turned. Pressing her body against him, it didn’t take him long so place his hands on her hips. She let her head fall against his chest and lifted her arms. His lips were close to her ear and she could feel his hot breath over her skin.

She pressed closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his hard chest, of the way his fingers dug into her hips and how he moved with her. They danced for what felt like an eternity, the beat of the music echoing Feyre’s own heartbeat and before long his hands had begun to wander over her body. Even through her dress, his touch left a trail of fire on her skin and she was desperate to feel more of him.

She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck. He huffed a laugh and slid his hands down her ass. Thanks to her heels she was tall enough to reach his neck. And not thinking about where she was or why she was, she trailed her lips over Rhys’ skin. He pulled her closer at that, and she could have sworn she heard him curse.

His hands dug deeper into her ass, pressing her against his hardness and she gasped against his skin. She looked up at him, dazed and with desire pounding through her whole being. Her hands slipped into his hair and she pulled him down. Their lips met in a heated clash and his hands trailed down her bare thighs and he hoisted her up into his arms. Lost in the feeling of his lips on hers, his tongue slipping past and meeting hers, she reflexively wrapped her legs around him. Her dress was bunched around her hips, probably exposing her for all to see, but when his hips snapped into hers again, she didn’t give a single fuck.

She broke away long enough from his lips to say, "Let’s get out of here."

He let go of her slowly. As she slid down his body, every part of them touched and the pressure against her core, her breasts, made her groan again.

"Agreed." He just said, a little breathless.

Reaching for his hand, she pulled him towards the doors. She caught Aranea’s eyes and used her free hand to wave. Her friend just shook her head and turned back to nurse her drink.

"Go, Rhys!" She heard his vocal friend whistle from the booth as they passed it.

She was too far gone to care about anything. This guy, Rhys, was driving her crazy. Had robbed her of her ability use her damn mind and all she wanted to do was get out of here and wrap her legs back around his waist.

He seemed to be thinking around the same lines, because he said, "I don’t live far from here." At her nod, he hailed a cab.

They looked at each other. Without the soul crushing noise of the bar and the flashing neon lights, she could drink him in. His eyes travelled down her figure and then she was back in his arms. His hands tangled in her hair as he leaned down to kiss her again. Honestly, she didn’t know how he did it, but it felt as though he was everywhere all at once.

A cab stopped and they untangled long enough to slid into it. He gave the driver the address and then Feyre was back on him. In his lap actually. The cab wasn’t very big but she managed to get into his lap and grind down before the driver had taken off. Rhys’ hands slid down her dress, up her ass and back. She could feel her dress riding up and wanted nothing but to rip his shirt open. Instead she dragged her teeth over his neck.

They made out like that, like desperate teenagers in the back of a cab while the driver tried desperately not to look at them. Then they had arrived and not a second too late. Rhys’ handed over a couple of bills and Feyre used that moment to slip one hand between them and palm through his pants. He bucked into her touch and she let out a breathless laugh.

She honestly couldn’t keep up during the next few minutes. She stumbled out of the cab, pulling her dress down and then Rhys pulled her through a door and up a two flights of stairs. Kissing every other step, it took them quite a while to finally get into his apartment and when they did, Rhys had barely managed to close the door, before Feyre began unbuttoning his shirt.

He used that time to lift her dress back up. His hands played with her lace panties and when his hand palmed her though them, she let out a small noise of pleasure. Noting that, he slipped through the fabric and ran that single digit though her folds. Finding her wet and willing, he pushed her further down the hallway. Frustrated with the last few buttons, she pulled his shirt open to reveal a tanned chest with a brutal and yet intricate looking tattoo on it. Through the haze of lust, she couldn’t appreciate the whirls and swirls but her lips found hot, smooth skin and that was all she wanted in that moment.

He kept the pace of that finger achingly slow and Feyre bit into his chest. The chuckle vibrated through his chest and then she was gently pushed back until her legs hit a soft mattress and she fell back into satin sheets.  
He looked down at her and for a moment she tried to see herself through his eyes. Dress gathered over her hips, legs wide and bare save for the slim piece of lace between them and the heels on her feet. No doubt her hair was fanned around her like a halo and her make up must be smudged.

Apparently Rhys liked what he saw well enough because he kneeled down before the bed and wrapped his arms around her thighs. He pulled her close to the edge and then Feyre felt his teeth grazing up the inside of her thighs.

Her fingers gripped the sheets as he took off her panties and spread her legs. Their eyes met and Feyre could see him smirking up at her. "I believe I promised to rock your world, Feyre darling." He purred.

"Get on with it then." She said, but she had barely finished the words when he pressed his tongue flat against her. A shudder went through Feyre and one of her hands gripped him by the back of the head, tangling in his silky soft hair.

He made a sound that she took as appreciation and it vibrated through her. When Feyre grew impatient with his tongue moving slowly against her clit, she pushed her hips off the bed and close to him. A chuckled against her skin, made her skin tighten with pleasure.

The pressure was building in her gut. Her fingers and toes tingled as heat pooled between her legs. She scraped her nails against his scalp and pressed him closer. He obliged her silent order and slipped one finger inside her, pumping in time with the movement of his tongue. Feyre squirmed under his touch, throwing her head back against the sheets and lifting her legs, her heels catching on the edge of the mattress.

Rhys lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and puller her even closer to him. He pushed a second finger inside her and Feyre bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. "Fuck, yeah. Just like that." Her voice was guttural, drenched in desire like her body was.

She came when Rhys scraped his teeth lightly over her clit and as she rode out the waves of pleasure, he kept moving his fingers and tongue.

The haze of pleasure lifting from her, Feyre looked down at him. "Are you going to fuck me or play all night?" She asked and the way Rhys looked at her made her blood boil.

He pushed off his shirt and undid his belt. "Take off your dress." He said and Feyre didn’t need him to tell her twice. She slipped out of it and shed her bra after it. When she was wholly naked she looked back at him. He pulled his pants and brief down in one fluid motion.

She licked her lips at the sight of his cock and only the wicked smirk he gave her, stopped her from reaching for it.

"How do you want to me take you, Feyre darling?" He asked, that damned purr back in his voice.

Feyre didn’t hesitate. Getting on her knees, she brushed her hair over one shoulder and turned. She reached for his pillow and pulled it down. With her ass up and legs spread, she turned and smirked at him. "Do you need a formal invitation?" She asked.

But he was already pouncing. Kneeling on the bed behind her, he ripped open the foil of a condom, she hadn’t seen him grab. He rolled it over his cock and then she felt his thighs against the back of hers.

"Mmmh, you’re exquisite." He murmured against her back, trailing kisses down her spine and back up. One hand wrapped around her, cupping her breast and pinching her nipple. She rocked back into him and with a chuckle, he guided himself into her.

She couldn’t help it, her arms shook and she let herself falls against the pillow, moaning deeply. He slid into her slowly. Achingly slow. And she enjoyed every inch of him. When he was fully inside her, he kissed her shoulder, her neck, the shell of her ear. Again she rocked back into him, urging him to move.

When he started to move, Feyre let out another moan, this time muffled by the pillow. His pace was slow, almost as if he was trying to figure out her rhythm and it was driving her crazy. "Faster." She said, lifting herself back up onto her arms. "Harder."

He let out a groan as he obliged her yet again and the sound of skin meeting skin filled the air. She felt the pleasure building again and when she looked over her shoulder, she caught his eyes already on hers.

His lips were parted, dark blue eyes glazed with lust and hair sticking to his forehead. She reached back with one arm and wrapped it around his neck, pulling him close enough for their lips to touch. They didn’t kiss, but with each thrust, their lips met and parted, met and parted, met and parted…

She though she might go crazy from the pleasure of it all. It had been so long and this, this was exactly what she wanted, as if this guy was reading her mind and giving her exactly what she needed.

His hand found her clit again and she let him coil the strings of pleasure in her body tightly until she was ready to come undone again. Then she pushed his hand away and let go of him. Back with her face in the pillows, she said, "Fuck me harder. As hard as you can." Her voice sounded desperate, more like a plea than anything.

And when he pounded into her, so hard that every point of contact stung with blinding pleasure, she bit into the pillow to stifle her scream. She came, came so hard that she wanted to cry. As she convulsed around him, he kept fucking her.

She felt the stumble in their rhythm a beat before he groaned deeply and then he was coming too. He kept going for a few more thrusts, his arms shaking and then he stilled. Both of them panting, their hearts racing, Feyre flipped them, until both their backs were on the mattress and they just lay there, waiting for their hearts to slow, for their breath to catch up.

And then she laughed. A deep, joyous laugh. He looked at her, a hint of concern on his fine features but Feyre just shook his head. "You weren’t lying about that whole rocking my world thing."

For a second he just looked at her and then he too was laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory morning after shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no editing, bc i'm impatient

The pounding in her head woke her up. Slowly as if emerging from deep waters, she slowly gathered the strength to open her eyes. Her mouth was dry and pressed into a pillow. Feyre was wrapped in silk sheets and because of the headache, it took her a little too long to realise that she wasn’t in her own bed.

For half a second she didn’t remember anything, but then last night came flashing back to her. Groaning softly, she turned her head to face the man lying next to her. Their legs were tangled and the sheets were pushed down low enough for her to see that he was just as naked as she was.

In sleep his features were softer and he looked younger. His blue-black hair mussed and mouth slightly open. Feyre honestly didn’t know how she had ended up in the bed of this man. He was fucking gorgeous.

Not quite ready to walk away from whatever this was, she turned to lie on her side and watch him for a little while longer. But her movement woke him up and as he blinked sleepily, she was stunned to see the color of his eyes.

They were a delicate, deep shade of blue. So deep, that she could have sworn the color was impossible. And flecked with silver. Like the night sky, she thought.

He smiled softly at her and a smile of her own formed. "Morning." He was, his voice rough and sent a shiver down her spine.

"Morning." She replied and even the act of saying a single word, shot pain though her forehead. "Ugh. I need coffee." She groaned, as she watched his eyes wander down to her chest, where her breasts were exposed.

Her blood heated under his gaze, but if he wanted to go another round, she wouldn’t be able to do anything before taking painkillers for that wicked hangover.  
"Coffee, first. Then you can ravish me." She told him and his smile turned into a cocky smirk. "Alright, coffee for the lady."

He rose swiftly, rustling the bed as minimally as possible and Feyre admired his body. All muscle and tan skin. She looked him up and down and her gaze got stuck on his tattoo. As he put on a pair of boxer briefs and sweatpants, he laid the white shirt on the mattress beside her. "Unless you want to walk around naked. I certainly wouldn’t mind." He said with another smirk and Feyre sat up with a groan.

She pulled the shirt over her head and leaned back against the headboard. Her stomach roiled and head spun a little as she got used to the new position.

With a soft chuckle, Rhys exited the bedroom leaving the door open behind him.

Feyre found the bathroom across the hall and took care of her needs. Inside she took one look at the mirror and decided to wash off her smeared make up. Then she combed her hair with her fingers and washed her mouth thoroughly.

Most of her makeup was gone, but the eyeliner was hard to remove with just water and Feyre really did not want to use soap on her eyes. So she just left the slight smudges around her eyes. Rhys’ shirt was soft, but her lack of a bra was evident and the hem barely covered her ass.

She made her way into the kitchen and found Rhys with his back turned to her. He was busy with the coffee maker. "Need some help?"

He looked at her over his shoulder, smirk still in place and shook his head. "You look like you might throw up, so why don’t you take a seat."

She huffed a little at that, but followed his advice. Sliding into the stool at the counter, she leaned against the cold marble and covered her face with her hands.

"You didn’t seem that drunk last night." Rhys said conversationally.

At that she chuckled slightly. "I went home with you, of course I was drunk."

He turned to face her at that. Something in his eyes sparked. "Do you regret it then?"

She stiffened. "No. I mean- That’s not what I meant." And then sighing, she brushed her hair away from her face. "I don’t usually do one night stands."

"Then stay over another night." He simply said, smirking again, but he seemed to relax a little.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Again, you think highly mighty of yourself."

"I remember you telling me that I indeed rocked your world." Rhys said playfully as he turned to pour her a cup of coffee.

"That was probably the vodka talking." She muttered, reaching for the cup. He stopped, feline amusement dancing in those eyes. "Then I’ll just have to do it again."

She blushed then and he chuckled at that. He handed her the mug and Feyre inhaled the hot steam of the coffee. She groaned slightly and then carefully sipped it.

The sound of someone pounding on the door, made her jump.

"Shit." Rhys cursed and Feyre looked up at him.

"Please tell me that isn’t your girlfriend." Of course, this gorgeous dude, who she had picked up at a bar would have someone pounding on his door first thing in the morning.

He laughed, but seemed nervous. "No." He said slowly as another round of pounding made Feyre shut her eyes.

"Hey, asshole. Open up." Someone barked and Feyre wasn’t sure but the voice seemed familiar. And not at all like a girlfriend. Boyfriend, maybe.

Sighing, Rhys looked at her. "My brother. He won’t stop unless I let him in."

Realising that he was asking for her permission, she just shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. No significant other, then.

He went to open the door and she heard their muffled voices until someone barged into the room. It was one of the guys from last night. Tall, broad and handsome. With long hair and a tight shirt. He was smirking at her and when Rhys appeared behind him, he turned back to him. "She doesn’t look like you rocked her world." He remarked and Feyre laughed in surprise.

The laugh hurt and she cringed at the pounding in her head but the tone of the man was so disappointed in Rhys, that she couldn’t stop herself.

Rhys groaned and walked passed his friend to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Maybe you should have approached me, sweetheart. I promise you wouldn’t be able to stand right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh wow, another one of you. I’m not surprised you’re related." She said to Rhys and he chuckled.

"I’m actually quite modest compared to Cassian."

"With reason." Cassian remarked and reached for Rhys’ mug. He let him take it and Cassian drowned it in two long gulps.

And then as if this was totally normal, he sat down next to Feyre and looked expectantly at Rhys. "Where’s my breakfast?"

Feyre frowned at him. "Seriously? We’re kind of in the middle of something."

Rhys turned his back and Feyre was sure that he was silently laughing. If the taunt muscles in his shoulders were any indication.

"It’s saturday." Cassian said, leaning back a little and sipping on the coffee. "Rhys always makes me breakfast on saturdays."

The man in question was currently pouring himself a new cup of coffee. Then he turned and looked very amused.

"Well, I think him leaving with someone would give you a hint to stay away the next morning." Feyre said, her voice mocking. Still, there was a tint of frustration in her words. Now that her coffee was mostly gone and the pounding in her head had eased, she wanted Rhys to make good on his promises before his brother had so rudely interrupted.

But Cassian just shrugged. "What has that got to do with anything? Let me eat my breakfast in peace and you can do whatever you want with him."

Rhys snorted into his coffee. Feyre glared at both of them. "Is this some kinky bullshit you’re trying to pull? Trying to get a threesome going?"

This time Rhys seemed to accidentally inhale his coffee and began coughing. But Cassian was the one, who tipped his head back and laughed loudly. "I like this one, brother."

Still, she watched Rhys and once he regained his composure, his eyes fixed on hers. Gone was the smirking, gone was the sleepy amusement. His eyes were intense and they way he looked at her, made her knees weak. Good thing, she was sitting down.

"Trust me, Feyre darling, I have no intentions of sharing you with anyone." His voice was a purr and Feyre felt the heat pool between her legs. She swallowed, forgetting that someone else was sitting right next to her.

His eyes were looking at her in a way that made her remember the way he had touched her last night. And Feyre knew that she was hooked.

"Ugh, gross." Cassian said, but neither she nor Rhys looked at him. "Alright, alright. I’m going before I have to watch you eat each other alive."

He stood, but Feyre’s eyes were drawn to the way Rhys tongue swiped over his bottom lip. She swallowed, her throat tight and licked her own lips in anticipation.

From down the hall, Cassian called, "You better make this up to me next week, Rhys" before opening the apartment door, leaving and shutting it with a loud bang.

For a few heartbeats, they just looked at each other. Then, Rhys put his mug down and slowly, oh so slowly prowled towards her. Feyre watched him come around the counter, let him turn the stool she sat upon. He placed his hands on her thighs and slid them up slowly to her hips, spreading them and stepping into the new space.

Her breath hitched, as his fingers dug into her skin a little deeper and Feyre let her own hands explore their way up his forearms, to his shoulders and up to his neck. Their eyes were locked, as their hands slowly crept over each other. It was so different from the way they had been last night. Then it was frenzied and needy and desperate.

But now, he was trying to tease her and she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of watching her squirm. Two could play that game. She slid a little closer to him, tilting her hips and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly.

He groaned and it sent a thrill through her. She wanted him to make that sound again, so she tugged a little harder.

And suddenly his lips were on hers, kissing her. It was a slow, unhurried kiss, but she could feel his desire behind it. And when his hands slipped towards her ass and pulled her flush against him, she gasped into his mouth and tugged at his hair again.

His hips rocked into hers and she let out another groan.

One of her hands made its way down his chest and abdomen to the waistband of his bottoms. She slipped under the fabric and found his cock hard and hot. Curling her fingers around him, she slowly stroked him. In response, his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. Then he began kissing her jaw, her neck and further down. When he was stopped by the fabric of his own shirt on her body, he lifted hands, dragging the fabric along with him.

She let go of him long enough to discard the shirt and then she was naked in his kitchen, with his lips covering one nippled and the other breast palmed in his hand.

Feyre threw her head back and let him kiss and nip and lick at her sensitive skin as her own hand moved on his cock between their bodies. He hummed against her breast and the vibrations went right to her core.

As if Rhys knew exactly where she needed his touch the most, his free hand slipped over her stomach and right between her legs. His fingers slid through her folds almost lazily and then came back to circle around her clit. Feyre bit into the first bit of skin she could find to stop herself from crying out. It turned out to be his shoulder.

Her own hand stumbled, as he worked on her clit.

"You’re so fucking wet, darling." He growled against her chest and Feyre couldn’t stop her moan this time. Rhys slid a finger inside her, his thumb still circling around her bundle of nerves. His touch was lighter now, like he wanted to take his time.

"Rhys.." Feyre panted, redoubling her efforts and pumping him harder as her other hand clutched his back, nails digging in. "Please."

She felt his smirk then. Felt it as his lips parted and when his eyes met hers again, her nails dug in deeper into his skin. He lost his composure a little at that, eyes rolling back and fingers stumbling inside her.

"Fuck."

And then his hands were gone and before she could protest, dropped to his knees and placed her legs over his shoulders, spreading them to put his mouth on her. Yelping, she grabbed for the counter behind her to steady herself as his tongue pressed flat against her.

Gone were the lazy teasing strokes from before. He was relentless as he coaxed her towards her climax with his lips, his tongue and his teeth. And when Rhys added two fingers inside her and bent them a little, Feyre was gone. Her hand slipped from the counter as she came, waves of pleasure washing over her, shooting stars replacing the blood in her veins.

He caught her before she could fall off the stool, but they still ended up on the floor, with him beneath her. He was chuckling and when Feyre could move again, she straddled him right there on the ground. She was about to sink down on his cock, when she remembered what she was doing and froze.

"What?" He asked, his eyes glazed, chin dripping with her wetness.

"Condom." She told him breathless and ripped them both of their haze. She stood on shaky legs and he followed her.

"I’ll be right back, darling." He told her, trying to sound like his usual cocky self but his voice was a little shaky. She smiled as she watched him dart out and return surprisingly quick.

He was already rolling down the condom on his length when he looked up and found Feyre sitting on the counter. This time his smirk returned in full force. Eyes sweeping all over her, he approached.

Feyre spread her legs and crooked a finger towards him. Rhys pounced. Wrapping his hands around her thighs, Feyre found his cock and guided him inside her. She wanted him, wanted him badly enough to discourage any sort of teasing. So aligned him and pushed herself on him.

They groaned together as he pushed in fully. Feyre’s hands wrapped around his back and Rhys used one arm to wrap around her and the other to steady himself against the counter. And when Rhys began moving, her nails raked down his back and her lips found the soft skin of his neck.

Feyre was sure that she could get lost in this, this feeling of their bodies being joined. And that she would be content to be right there with him for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feed my feedback hunger pls and say hi on tumblr @quakeriders

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda want to write a morning after chapter for this, let me know if anyone's interested..


End file.
